


Sold To The Serpent

by trauma_d0ll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heavy BDSM, Master/Slave, Multi, Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28836030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trauma_d0ll/pseuds/trauma_d0ll
Summary: After the Battle Of Hogwarts, The Dark Lord is now the most powerful and dark wizard to walk the planet. Defeating all know enemies and anybody who may pose a threat to him, most importantly Harry Potter, the Wizarding World has changed forever. Hermione Granger is just a 17 year old girl who was born at the wrong time, having to live with the consequences of her parents actions. Just how far is she willing to go in order to survive.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. Reminisce

**Author's Note:**

> This story is extreme and is not to be taken lightly. Please read the tags and make sure you won’t be triggered by any of the situations that will happen within this story. 
> 
> {AU Harry Potter story, all characters are different in many ways, as is the setting.}
> 
> Please leave feedback, positive or negative! Enjoy :)

Mother: A woman in relation to her child or children. That’s the specific definition of the term, but not to me. Mother is someone who has sex with a man, admittedly a friend of hers, then months later, I was born. Carried around inside of her with all the nutrients and warmth I would need to survive, but then afterwards, forced into a world in which I didn’t agree to. Now, I’m not blaming my mother for this, it wasn’t exactly her fault and I’m sure under different circumstances my life would have turned out a whole lot different but unfortunately there’s no time to be thinking about alternative ways in which my life could have turned out, because right now I’m stuck in this constant pattern of survival and betrayal, which is called life. Now, you’re probably wondering what caused this self-centred, pitiful state of affairs which I like to call my mind and thoughts, and I’m going to tell you... 

I was born in the year of 1999, precisely one year after the battle of Hogwarts. My parents were Monica Granger and Wendell Wilkins, a pair of muggles who up until the age of 27, had no knowledge of the existence about the Wizarding World. They had lived pretty normal lives, working 9-5, Monday-Friday in an office and my mother, a library within the city of London. By the time they were in their late twenties, The Dark Lord had unfortunately decided to make himself ‘known’ in the muggle world. Alongside the help of his sadistic minions, he came up with a plan to snatch precisely 10 muggles in and around the UK, to be forced to live in dungeons as experiments for himself. This plan hadn’t exactly gone to plan, with 7 of the muggles dying within 2 months of the Dark Lord’s torture and another one who had decided to take his own life, by self-asphyxiation, rather than submit to the cruel tortures that the Dark Lord himself, inflicted on him. As you are probably guessing, the last two muggles left were indeed my parents. Within the months, my father had taken a liking to my mother, choosing to shield her from the curses and tortures that they were put through. Of course this never worked, as two muggles were to stand no chance against the hands of dark wizards, but he always tried. My mother on the hand, was fighting for her survival in which eventually she succeeded in. You see, months had past since The Dark Lord had captured these two muggles, and yet they still lived and breathed the same air as him, the only ones remaining. This had somewhat kept them alive, the essence of a possability. Months had turned into years and the two had fallen into a pattern... Sleep, torture, eat, more torture, the possible breakdown, more torture, brief chats among each other, more torture and then once again, sleep. My mother and father, being the last surviving and only comfort one another had, started a ‘relationship’ of kinds. They weren’t in love, but being around another being almost 24 hours per day, obviously had to effect their minds and mental well-being, and so the two became friends and then eventually non-sexual lovers. This was until 13 years later, when both had now turned 40 and their lives would shortly be coming to an end. Now, I don’t know the precise details of this encounter but one night whilst my parents had been sleeping, a death eater which was the formal naming of The Dark Lords devotees and killers, had awoken my mother and dragged her upstairs whilst putting an incantation charm on my father. My mother would once again be brutalised by the cruciatus curse, and other likely torture curses until early hours of the morning. Few death eaters got the privilege to be in the presence of the Dark Lord whilst he inflicted his torture, but shortly after, all were dismissed and only my mother and the Dark Lord were left in the room. Sometime later, her body was removed by the same Death Eater which had brought her upstairs and she was placed next to my father who was still under the sleeping charm. From that day on, she never spoke a word of that night to my father and to my knowledge, he was never aware of what happened to her. 

Following those events, my mother was traumatised beyond repair and her mind and body were destroyed forever. She would not speak with my father, nor would she confide in him, even during her lowest moments when she wanted so desperately to sneak her arm over him and crawl into his embrace. The only thing she allowed my father to do was sexual, which in his mind was his way of her being able to take some control back, that had been wiped out of them both. And so, he indulged in her body as she did with him, and the two would go on to have sex a few more times, prior to their death. By this time, it was now 1998 and the Dark Lord had defeated his one and only enemy, Harry Potter, during the battle of Hogwarts. This Wizarding World was now his and anybody who dared challenge that, was immediately wiped from existence, not that many dared. New rules were now in place and most would eventually go on to determine my future. The Dark Lord was known to despise muggles, but even more so, muggle-borns. An individual who was the offspring of two muggles, and had inherited magical abilities. He described them as ‘unworthy’ and a ‘shame to our world’ which of course, most wizards now agreed with, by choice or out of fear. And so, The Dark Lord ruled that all muggle-borns of existence around the UK were to be captured and slaughtered. Now, as you can imagine this caused fear among families, friends and anybody who was in contact with muggle-borns, meaning some was able to escape and flee to other countries, in which by this point, the Dark Lord had not reached full power over. But this unfortunately was not the case for most. By the end of 1998, nearly 80% of muggle-borns were wiped out, leaving only 20% of our existence still alive. Now, this is were the story starts to involve me again. Moving forward to 1999, my birth year, my parents were still captured and would be coming to the end of their life, my father was overcome with depression and his body and mind had reached the level of capacity of torture that it was able to withhold, so in the middle of the night, he too decided to take his own life and with that, left my mother the last and only surviver of The Dark Lords captives. Although my mother was sad, it hadn’t broke her like it most likely would have in any normal situation. She was used to death, it was almost like a shadow hanging over the room she now called home, but being left on her own now enabled her to see the consequences of their actions. By this point, my mother was aware that her body had started to change, and being the weight she currently was, any slight or insignificant mark on her body was immediately a huge red flag. Over the years, her body had adapted to her surroundings in order to survive, and with that, came the lack of periods she received, this was mainly to the malnourishment she had endured over the years. With that, she felt she no longer needed to worry about the unprotected sex that herself and my father was to have, those very few times. But, with her disheveled mind, the lack of periods, didn’t exactly mean no periods, and so adding both factors (her body still being able to bare a child + the lack of protected sex) equals an unplanned pregnancy... aka, me. Unfortunately, this is were the past ends and the future begins. I’m aware of nothing much more than what I have shared when it comes to the existence of my parents and their story.

A few days after I was born, shortly after I was named by my mother, she was murdered under the spell of the infamous Cruciatus Curse by The Dark Lord himself. Reasons being was that she had given birth to a muggle born and The Dark Lord had finished with his cruel intentions with her, and simply became bored with her. Now, you’re probably wondering why and how I’m still alive to tell this story, and to put it simply, I was thinking the same thing too when I found out. Now, as you remember me saying, by now there were only 20% of muggle-borns living in the UK and this had quickly declined even more by the time I turned 1 years of age. 10% of muggle-borns that were over the age of 18 had simply been murdered due to the fact of ‘no need for them in our existence’ and so that then left only 100 muggle-borns left in our world. I of course, being one of them. These muggle-borns were all of the same age, or at least around the same age at the time and so The Dark Lord had devised a plan alongside his most trusted advisers, to build an orphanage that enslaved the muggle-borns and raise them until they were 17 years of age. The wizards and witches who ran and worked at the orphanage were all either Pure-Bloods or Half-Bloods, they were there to care and raise the children until they were of age. And so, that’s exactly what happened to myself. At only a few days old, I was taken from my mother by the head of the orphanage programme and was sent to live out the next 17 years as a muggle-born prisoner. And so, this is were we are at now. 

I’m Hermione Morile Granger,   
And this is my story.


	2. The Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be a slow burn as I really want to make it worthwhile and interesting but it will get considerably darker within the next few chapters. Enjoy.. please feel free to leave comments/kudos as it really encourages me.

The room was cool, a gentle breeze whistling throughout the confined space that Hermione shared with several other teenagers. The slow, gentle breathing from parted lips that somehow calmed her throughout the nights she had spent inside the orphanage. The orphanage wasn’t bad, not in the way some may think, there was no abuse or torture from the witches and wizards that were in charge of each of their lives, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. It had been 17 years since she was pulled away from her mother and was taken to live in the orphanage that she now called home, and during that time, her life had no purpose really, just a constant state of emptiness that lived within herself. Throughout the years she had warmed to the idea of one day being able to escape and go on to live a fulfilled life, imagining herself with a career she loved and a family to call her own, but the reality of that became only a glimmer of hope, and she knew that, that alone weren’t enough to fully emerge herself with the idea of normality. She was 17 now, classed as an adult and of age to; become a wife, bare children and to plan the rest of her life as a devoted and proud woman to her family and society. That was of course, if she were to have been born as a Pure-Blood or Half-Blood and not as a filthy ‘Mudblood’ that they now liked to refer to all muggle-borns as. No, her life would be taking a different path within only a few weeks time. 

When the Dark-Lord himself came up with the idea to house all muggle-borns in an orphanage, he already had ideas as what he would eventually do with us once we became adults and neither were more ideal than the other. At first we were to be brainwashed, corrupt of our own minds as to why we had to be locked up for all of our childhood and teenager years, blaming ourselves for our blood type and understanding that it was out fault, and then they would simply wipe our minds, free from any realisation of what our lives had been up until that point, but of course the Dark Lord had realised that the plan would be useless and he would be wasting resources and money on us, and so that plan was shortly dismissed. The next idea was to simply torture and display us, as if we were animals in a zoo, put on display to be watched and discussed, whilst we were deprived from our natural habitat and human rights, but once again The Dark Lord was advised against that by his trusted informants under the statement ‘It would be too easy and carefree for the mudbloods to live their lives that way’ so once again, that idea was scrapped. Now, the last and final idea was the one that was to determine the rest of my life forever. The Dark Lord came up with the idea that muggle-borns should learn to be grateful that their lives were still aloud to be in the presence of much more worthy wizards and witches and so we should have to spend the rest of our lives worshipping the ground they walked and that’s exactly what he planned to do. Once a muggle-born had become of age, he or she would be sent to an auction that would sort what master or mistress they would serve for the rest of their lives, or at least until their owner decided when their time frame of life would come to an end. Now there were two different types of auctions that a muggle-born would be entered into, the first was most common and were most would be sent to, the bidders were usually Half-Bloods that had a comfortable but almost working class life, enough money to support a family but not enough to be classed as entirely ‘worthy’. The witches or wizards were aloud to bid on up to 3 muggle-borns, any gender or preference they thought suited them best and once the highest bid was place, they were now in charge of the muggle-borns they had bought. The individuals in their ‘care’ were usually mixed with other slaves or house-elves and their jobs were to clean, cook and occasionally please their master or mistress in any way they choose. But to put it simply, once they were bought, their lives were controlled and ordered until their death day, no questions asked. 

The second auction was much rarer to be placed into and only two so far had been chosen. A pair of 17 year old twin boys that were a few months older than herself. At the time spent at the orphanage, Hermione has only spoken to the boys a handful of times, mainly during class or on breaks, they were kind and usually kept to themselves, relying on each other to stay alive. They stood out to all the other boys at the orphanage and there was a good reason why. Each were tall and slim built, their skin a perfect shade of bronze with golden hair and yellow tinted eyes that were shaded and protected by long eyelashes, framing their beautiful faces. Girls and boys alike were besotted by them and so they should be, as they were truly incredible to look at, but besides their physical appearance they were also internally unique. The thing about muggle-borns, was that they had characteristics and abilities that were unique to that individual. Being born from parents with absolutely no magical abilities whatsoever made the muggle-born enchanting almost, they had the blood of muggles with the power and magic of a wizard or witch, and so their DNA was a mix of contrast, light and dark almost, meaning that they had powers and appearances like no-other person in their world. Some say, behind hidden identities, this is the reason The Dark Lord hated their existence so much and under everything, it was envy that had caused the rage inside of him about muggle-borns. And so, the twins had a special ability, mind control mixed with the ability to heal each others bodies and minds from a simple drop of each others blood, it could bring them back from the brink of death without any magic performed whatsoever, not even The Dark Lord was capable of those abilities. But with unique abilities also came with a dark side, for the twins it was if they were to be separated from each other for 3 days or more, their existence would simply disappear. For this reason alone, they were bought together at auction by a wealthy and respected Pure-Blood wizard that was known among the Wizarding World as the ‘spell keeper’ due to his obsession with new experiments among the rarer kind of magic folks. Once the twins had left the orphanage, they were basically never heard of again, simply a memory within the orphanage walls. 

I stuck to myself at the orphanage, mainly shut away in the library whilst burying my head among the hundreds of books that had been specifically reviewed and handed to those in charge of running the place. If a muggle was to look into the orphanage, named ‘Bloomsdale’, they would find that it appeared to be like any normal muggle orphanage that belonged in their world. It was a large, long building that appeared old and worn away over time. Surrounded by tall iron gates and guards keeping watch 24/7, there was nothing more than buildings and housing for guests invited to the orphanage. Bleak, that was the best word to describe it. Inside consisted of rooms upon rooms, mainly classrooms with rows of chairs and desks with a large wooden desk and whiteboards standing tall at the front of the room. Like other children and young adults our age, we had an education, learning to write and read in English as well as other languages such as French and Russian if our grades were capable of enduring that level of study. Mathematics and other lessons were taught but our main focus of study was discipline and etiquette. Each individual was taught manners such as how to greet witches and wizards in the formal way and how to address our superiors, which was basically anybody who weren’t muggle-born. Punishments were ruled accordingly and rather fairly, mainly if an individual were to be disobedient or improper. Females and Males were separated when we became teenagers, females were taught by female witches or professors and the same for the males. Personal hygiene, our anatomy and what was expected of us when we eventually became of age was taught from the age of 12 and onwards. We were aware from a young age that our bodies were to be used for others pleasure and not for our own. Meaning, no sexual interaction between ourselves or others were permitted inside the orphanage, any rule breakers were taken and ‘punished’ aka, never to be seen again. Of course by this, nearly everybody kept to the rules and that’s what was expected. Apart from our studies and etiquette classes, the main focus of attention was the dining room, libraries and of course our rooms. Free time was after 5 PM Monday-Friday and most of the day Saturday-Sunday. The dining room was a large room with three extremely long wooden tablets in the centre with benches along the outside and at the top of the room was were our caretakers would sit for breakfast, lunch and dinner. 

Rooms were sorted into boys and girls. Girls on the top left side of the building and the boys on the top right side of the building. Each room was shared by individuals within your birthday bracket, so the elder of the 17 year olds were in a certain corridor and of course the youngest were placed in a different corridor. I was apart of the younger rooms, and within it I shared my room with Elsa, Luna, Olivia, Abigail and Aria. They were all perfectly pleasant girls and throughout our 17 years together we had formed a rather close bond, but Elsa was the one I would call my true best friend here. She was the complete opposite of me in every way, she had short blonde hair that was styled in a pixie cut, brown eyes with small petite lips and she was tall, almost 5’8 and stunningly curved beyond belief. She was the perfect witch next door, beautiful but in a plain sort of way and a huge heart that had confided in me, many times during our life here. We had similar interests, mainly reading and learning among some others too, but thats were the similarities ended. I was small, 5’3 to be precise with long brown hair that ended just above my bottom and fell into a loose natural wave. I was very fair skinned, in the winter months it was as if my skin changed colour, pale turned to white and of course with that, every little detail and flaw was subjected to my eyes and others. I was a slim build with a narrow waist and although I didn’t hate my figure, there were of course lots I would have changed if given the choice. For example, my legs were slim but stumpy meaning the lower half of my clothing never looked or sat right. My thighs were ok I guess, although I wouldn’t mind smoothing a little of the cellulite that gathered slightly at the top of my thigh and my bottom was always a little too peachy for my liking. My stomach was tight and smooth with a slight curve visible under my belly button and atop of my knicker line, which over the years I tried desperately to get rid of, to find out that it was simply my uterus and was completely normal to have, even though my pre-pubescent mind wouldn’t accept it at the time. My breasts were nice, perky and a good handful but due to the colour of my skin, any vein or flaw showed up almost immediately, like the colour black on a blank canvas. I thought of my face as pretty enough, I had full pouty lips that were always too chapped for my liking due to the harsh weather conditions we had here in England and my nose was ok, small but with a slight bump in the middle. The one thing I did enjoy about my appearance was my eyes. The centre focus on my face and the first thing I noticed when I looked in the mirror along with others, my left eye was an emerald green colour with strikes of pale green dancing across the outer line whilst my right eye was a bright ice blue colour with a dark brown, almost black sharp line going from my pupil to the outer circle. Framing my eyes were eyelashes, all a dark brown colour apart from a few in the middle of my left eye, there formed a few stands of pure white hair that separated itself from all my other eyelashes. I was never sure of why my eyes were this unique, I can’t reply on photographs of my parents as there were none in my existence but never the less, I was happy with my eye colours, they set me apart from others and made me unique in a way. The one thing I hated more than anything was the scar that descended in the centre of my forearm that I have had since I was born. It was a long S shape that was a pinkish-white colour and stood out like a motherfucker, especially against my white skin. The witches and wizards had examined it from a young age and medical wizards had done so too, but no-one knows how I came to have it on my body, they assumed it was just a complication from birth and that it was no harm to either myself or anybody else for that matter, and so it was just apart of my body and my existence. It almost never hurt and whenever I was clothed, I forgot it was there to be perfectly honest, but it tingled and sometimes burned whenever I was angry or scared, a slight tremor within my blood that danced finely across my skin.

I may sound vein with how much I’ve examined my body and spoke about every little detail, but growing up here, the main topic of conversation was appearance. It was drummed into us at a young age that every little detail of our body would determine the outcome of the rest of our lives. Our face, body, abilities, uniqueness were always the topic of chat between friends and professors alike. They had kept record of our weight, height, mind and even grades since we could walk and some even say among us that they are the ones who determine which auction we will be sent to in only a few weeks time. I’ve always kept my head down here, quiet and mysterious Elsa used to say when we first became proper friends. It’s not that I hard a hard time growing up here but when this is all you know from a young age, it becomes a chore almost, the same daily routine whilst seeing the same faces and having no-one to explore or experiment with, I was always just craving more. We were kept under strict supervision here, the walls literally having ears within, the only privacy were the toilets and the garden area, but even that had guards watching us from a distance. Magic out of everything was strictly forbidden, the mention of using it was at least a canning to the legs and so no one ever attempted to engage in it, plus the whole orphanage had a binding spell that permitted no magic to be explored even if we wanted to. That was until a few months ago... I was sat in the library as usual with my head buried in a book when I had this feeling that wouldn’t leave my body. It was as though the veins in my body had become alight and I couldn’t focus on anything else apart from it. Leaving my seat I walked through the isles of book shelves to find myself near the back of the library, with only a few of us inside I tried to keep myself as hidden as possible. Finding myself at a locked door, I tried opening it but nothing happened, again and again I tried pulling at the handle as discreetly as possible but still nothing. It wasn’t until I placed my hand on the door that I felt it. A cold rush of energy possessed my body, as though a cold winter breeze had entered me and subsequently kept pushing and pushing until I was able to let it out. And then it was gone, my body back to normal as if nothing had happened, I thought I must have been visioning or imagining it but it wasn’t until I pressed my hand to the door handle that I was able to unlock it and open the door. Inside was black, it was almost like looking into the abyss, but my feet moved forward regardless of my brain saying no. Once my whole body had set foot inside the room, a sudden light appeared in the corner and slowly swept along the room until my eyes could become accustomed to what was in front of me. There stood a single bookcase, holding hundreds of dusty old books filled with pages as thick as at least double of the books I normally read. It was painfully quiet too, almost like to breathe would be breaking a rule. Moving closer to the bookcase, I found myself compelled to run my fingers against the old wood that held the structure of the case itself, the friction of my fingers running across the dishevelled wood sent a pang of excitement through every nerve ending in my body. With a sharp dull pain that ascended from the tips of my index finger, I sharply pulled back to see a small cut aligning my pad with a small drop of blood dancing along it. When a tiny blood drop, almost unnoticeable, dripped onto the bookcase a small gust of air shot through the room. A light suddenly appeared from the centre of the lower level shelf, almost a pulsing wave of electricity beckoning me to it. My body almost involuntarily moving before me, I knelt down to where the small bright light was shining, behind the shadow of the black, thick book. My hands slowly crept forwards, to reach for the books spine when a loud bell rang out throughout the building. Dinner time. As my heart slowly returned to its usual sequence of beats, I quickly made my way out of the room, careful not to get caught by the other muggle-borns or professors alike. Softly shutting the door behind me, I made sure it was once again locked before making my way out of the library and towards the dining hall. One thing for for certain, I’d be back to visit the room before I’m required to go to auction. 

And so, here I was, laying in bed whilst replaying the events that had happened these last few months and my mind constantly going to the book within the secret room. Why had it opened without a key to unlock? Did the other witches, wizards, professors or students know about it? And if so, why was it so evidently hidden from our eyes? Laying there with my eyes locked on a small spider dancing its way along its web on the ceiling, I decided that tomorrow I would once again explore the small room in the library and see just what secrets it was hiding, as that may be my last chance to, before I’m swept away to the auction that will forever change my life.


	3. The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longish chapter but its needed. The next chapter and onwards will get more into the story and relationship. Please leave kudos/comments if you are enjoying so far, it means a lot!

The early morning rays of sunlight shone into the orphanage bedroom, streaks of a yellowish hint bouncing of the old white walls within. Slowly opening my eyes and trying to become accustomed to the harsh light, I looked around the room and noticed the other beds were still occupied by my friends, all except one of course. Elsa wasn’t tucked under the cosy duvet like the others and this wasn’t a surprise. She was an early bird for sure, always up and about by 7:30 AM and either walking around the garden to embrace the bitter morning fresh air or in the library catching up with homework or reading. The thought of doing either of those things before 9 AM on a Sunday morning was not in my plans. So instead I tucked my arms back into the warmth of my bed and cocooned myself into an other hours sleep. 

“Hermione, Hermione wake up! They’ve came, they’re finally here!”  
A high pitched noise woke me as I was in the middle of a blissful dream. Rubbing my eyes and sitting up, shivering due to the cold chill that had entered unannounced thanks to the gap now in our bedroom door, I finally looked at the tall, hyperactive girl that was almost bouncing in front of me. Holding out which looked like a card within a sealed envelope was Elsa. 

“You do realise that it is Sunday morning and it still isn’t 9 AM yet” I said with a slight sarcastic hint.  
“Actually it’s 10 now, all the others are awake and downstairs in the dining room opening their letters and eating... I thought I’d let you have a lay in since you hardly ever sleep in. But we’ve got a meeting with the head at 10:30, so unfortunately you’ll have to get your cute ass up and come downstairs.”   
With a confused look, I held my hand out and took the letter that Elsa was still holding and looked down at the silver envelope with my name written in the centre.  
“I knew this day would come soon enough but it just doesn’t feel real...”   
“I know, but I’m kind of excited, aren’t you?” Elsa said whilst looking at me, her eyebrows turned into a frown. Elsa had always had an open mind about our future and had never really complained about it, not even during her lowest points. It had always confused me, but I guess to most, anything than stuck inside these walls for the rest of our lives would be better.   
“Ummm... I wouldn’t say excited is the correct word for how I’m feeling about being sold to another person and having no say in how my life will lead.”   
“ I know, and I truly get that but c’mon, anything’s gotta be better than this miserable place.”   
“Potential torture, abuse and another prison with a different view isn’t exactly how I’d describe anything better than this place.” And it was the truth. No matter how boring and dull life was inside the orphanage at least it was somewhat safe and familiar, as long as we kept to the rules we were treated rather well. I’ve always craved more than this life here, always wanting something exciting to happen, something unfamiliar to my daily routine and these letters are exactly what that was, I should be somewhat happy and excited to finally be starting a new chapter but the sane side of my brain was telling me to be unsettled by the letters and fear the potential outcome of the situation I’d eventually be put in. Elsa let out a sigh and with a scuffle with my thick duvet, she was sat beside me with her long, elegant arm embracing me into her.   
“I’m going to miss you so much, Hermione. You’re my best friend and I can’t imagine not waking up every day and seeing your grumpy morning face. Do you think once we’ve been sold, we’ll ever see each other again?”   
Looking up into her eyes was the answer she was begging me not to speak. She knew her own answer and she wanted me to give her false hope, a little blanket of security wrapped around the inevitable.  
“Hopefully...” And right away she knew the answer. 

With Elsa back downstairs with the others, I quickly threw my hair into a messy bun and jumped into the shower. The hot flames of water trickling down my spine and circling around my body. Quickly washing and scrubbing, I rinsed and put the fluffy towel around my body. I had 10 minutes to get ready and be down in the dining room for our meeting with the head and had no time to think about what was about to be announced. Brushing my teeth whilst gliding moisturiser on my face and body was a difficult task to say the very least, but not something I hadn’t managed to do before. I ran back into our room and grabbed the nearest thing to me that I could find, a pair of cosy black leggings with an oversized hoodie and some comfy converse would do the trick for today. Giving my long hair a quick brush and applying some lip balm to my forever chapped lips, I made myself out of the dormitories and down into the dining room. 

Elsa was right, the room was fully packed with all of my peers and our professors and some head of staff that were only here on special occasions. Scanning the room, I finally sought out the table my friends were sat out and made my way over to them. Elsa was sat at the end of the bench with Olivia and Aria sat next to her. On the opposite side of the table was Luna and Abigail. They all gave me a genuine smile and hug but behind their eyes I could see the dread that had formed within themselves. Sitting in between Luna and Abigail I turned my attention the large clock on the wall, I had made it with 5 minutes to spare... a new record for myself I thought smugly.   
“I wonder when we’ll be aloud to open our letters” said Aria with a nervous tapping hand.   
“I think this morning, there’s no way the whole orphanage would have been brought in here otherwise, and especially considering the head and orphanage officials are here too... that can’t be a coincidence.” Said Olivia. Scanning the room I noticed everybody had the same bleak expression on their faces, emerged in quiet conversations with each other but always looking around and up at where our professors were sat. As I was about to speak to the girls a quiet bell rang. Putting my attention to where the bell had came from, I noticed it was our head teacher. Mrs Cornile was a tall woman with long legs and a lean slim build. Dark hair framed her old face which always held the same stern expression. Her voice was alerting but not condescending...   
“As you are all aware by now, the letters that have been delivered this morning are to do with the auctioning that will take place in one weeks time. You have all been prepared for this exact moment since you were delivered to this orphanage at a young age, and I hope for your own sakes that you have taken every tiny bit of knowledge and advice that your professors and staff have taught you, into account. Now, as I said the auction will take place in one weeks time, in those envelopes you hold in your hands are the precise auction that you will attend. The rumours you have heard from one another over the past few years are indeed correct, myself and highly respected witches and wizards were in-charge of the placements of each individual within this room. Within your envelope will hold the numbers 1 or 2, 1 being the most common and 2 being much more unique and rare. In a moment I will tell each of you to open your envelope and you will be able to see which auction you will be attending. Once you have discovered your placement, you will be sent with your group to a seminar in which a Wizard or Witch will talk and answer any questions you have. That is all for now, you may open your envelopes. 

Hermione looked away from where the head teacher had been speaking and turned to look at her friends. Gone was the excited and hyper expression from Elsa’s face, it was now a face of anxiousness and dread. One by one each of use looked at each other and with an understanding nod, we began opening our envelopes. Slowly tearing the thick silver paper away, a matte black card was hidden underneath. Feeling the cold beads of sweat gathering on my forehead, I steadied my breathing and pulled the letter and flipped it over... nothing. There was nothing, the letter was blank. Looking up with a confused expression, the other girls had smiled at one another and seemed to be at least a little relieved. Looking at Luna’s card I saw that it had the letter ‘1’ written on it. Quickly I looked at Abigails and that also had the same number on her card. Catching Elsa’s eyes I shook my head.   
“I think there’s been a mistake... my letters blank.” I said to the others. Their heads quickly whipped around to mine and each of them stared at the letter that was now placed on the table.   
“Did you all get the same number?” I asked and each of them nodded, unsure of how to react or what to say.   
“There’s probably just been a misunderstanding with yours, Hermione. I’m sure if you explain to the head in a moment, she’ll be able to help.” Said Luna with a nervous tremor in her voice. Nodding my head I gave her a quick smile and glanced at the others around the room. Nobody was talking, but their faces looked at least calm. Some were bent over in a hushed conversation whilst others were also looking around the room. The hushed voices of the others around the room quickly disappeared and all heads were once again facing the top of the dining room whilst Mrs Cornile began to speak.   
“Now you have all had time among yourselves to discuss your outcome, I hope you are all somewhat relieved to now have your answers. You will now be split into two groups, group 1 please make your way over to the second classroom on the first floor and ground 2, please make your way to the second classroom on the second floor. A Witch or Wizard will be waiting for you all and your seminar will begin. Thank you all and I wish you a pleasant day.” The sound of benches being scraped softly across the wooden floor and individuals moving to their assigned groups erupted into the air. Standing and hugging each of my friends, assuring them with false confidence that I was okay and that I’m sure I’ll be joining them soon, whilst smiling at them individually, I finally waved them a good bye and turned towards the member of staff that were talking to one another. The hall was now almost empty apart from one other person. A boy who was clearly one of my peers was stood a few benches away from me. He was tall, almost 6 foot with dark black hair and fair smooth skin. I hadn’t noticed him around before, but that wasn’t exactly unusual. I tend to keep myself to myself and my friends and don’t wonder around the orphanage much. His head turned to me and gave me a half smile and nod. I returned the gesture and brought my focus back to the staff. To my surprise they had turned their heads towards us both and stared with an almost curious expression. Feeling my mouth dry up and breaths come in shallow gasps, I breathed in and tried to compose myself.   
“ Miss Granger, I believe?” Came from a man I had never met or recognised before. I quickly nodded my head and formed the words... “ Yes sir.”   
His dipped his head in a formal gesture and looked me up and down. The man looked to be in his early fourties, with black hair surrounding his face and landing on his shoulders, he wore a black suit which was completed with a heavy looking cape that fastened securely below his throat. He was tall and reeked of wealth and superiority. He was rather handsome in a standoffish sort of way, like a person could appreciate his looks from afar but wouldn’t dare to get too close. Quickly his eyes turned to the boy that was stood near by. “ Mr Groves?” He spoke. “ You are correct, sir.”   
The mans eyes flickered back to me and gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his cheeks. “ I’m guessing you are both wondering why neither of you received a card with a number on.. am I correct?” We both nodded and spoke simultaneously.. “Yes sir.”   
“Be assured, that no mistake has been made and that both of you were chosen by myself and my colleagues to have the outcome that you have now. You see, we start the selection process around one year before today, we in detail, go through each and every student who lives here at the orphanage and sort threw their appearance, traits, talents, grades and behaviour. Each student was easily separated into the two groups, with most going into group 1 and as you both witnessed yourselves, very few were placed into group 2... But still, they were easily sorted into the group regardless. But then there was still two students who couldn’t be placed into either of those groups, and I’m sure by now that you realise that those two student were you both. It has taken almost a full year to be in the situation that we’re in now, a unique and conflicting situation. You see, what do we do with two students who can’t be placed in the groups we had worked so hard, long ago, to come up with...” With a stunning silence, it was clear that one of us was supposed to answer the question. Thankfully before I had time to come up with a pathetic answer, the boy answered for me. “ I’m not sure, sir.” His voice was almost a whisper and if the room wasn’t so painfully silent already, his answered would never have been noticed. The man at the top of the room shook his head slowly and once again turned his attention to me. “ Miss Granger... care to share your opinion on why?” His stare beckoned me to answer and speaking without necessarily thinking, the answer formed on my tongue. “ You kill us, sir.” I could hear the almost whimpering humming from my voice and grimaced at how weak I must have sounded. A slight smile appeared on some of the professors faces, whilst others looked with arching eyebrows... but the man who was yet to introduce himself simply glared at me, as though I had cursed his name or spoke low of him. “ Miss Granger, why would I kill something as breathtakingly beautiful and unique as yourself, it would be compared to killing something such as a unicorn.” Before I could even comprehend my feelings to that answer, his conversation quickly changed and he was back to his explanation. “ Killing either of you is not an option nor a desire. Both of you are the most unique and intoxicating muggle-borns to have ever been born. Both your photographs have been passed around the selection group and each Witch or Wizard has agreed, that to put you both in either of those groups would be a disgrace and a waste. So instead, we created a new group that consisted of only the two of you. You both will still go to auction but it will be one that no student has ever heard of before or most Witches and Wizards in our world. Only a select few have been informed of this group, such as myself and the others who stand behind me and of course our Dark Lord.” The sound of his name and the realisation that the Dark Lord had indeed seen what I looked like, sent a shiver of dread through my body. “ The auction will be held on the same date as the other two, but of course in different locations and will be made up entirely of the most valuable and respected Pure-Bloods in our world, ones that couldn’t be seen in a room with less valuable or worthy Witches and Wizards, only those who the Dark Lord sees as fit to be able to bid. As you have already been informed, whoever places the highest bid on each of you will become your new Master/Mistress and you will be owned by them forever, or until they see fit but as they will be spending an incredible amount of money on you both, I don’t expect they will want to get rid of you that easily. More information will be given on the date of your auction. You will both also be moving into a private building within the radius of this site, and will have 7 days to get prepared and ready for your auction date. I’m sure this is a lot to take in, so booklets have already been placed on your new beds and please feel free to ask your new chaperone any questions. I will see you both again next week and will speak to you individually after the auction is over. Finally, as I haven’t introduced myself yet, my name is Mr Snape.” With that he turned his back to us and waved to a nearby woman who made her way over to us. Leading us out of the building so many thoughts and feelings were shooting across my body. It was overwhelming and i knew if I wasn’t to sit down soon, I’d end up fainting. Instead, I focused putting one foot in front of the other and following the boy who I knew to be called ‘Mr Groves’ who was walking in front of me. The cold frosty air of the British winter cut across my face like a knife, but it was gladly accepted. It was a short walk to our new accommodation, it stood to the side of the orphanage and until now, I had assumed it was just a spare building for guests. Our chaperone opened the door with a flick of magic and lead us inside. It was warm and rather homely. We were standing in a large room with couches and chairs and on the main wall was a fireplace, with a fire already lit and spitting warmth at us. There were bookshelves upon bookshelves lining the other walls and overall it was very nice. Our chaperone was named ‘Mrs Robinson’ and she seemed friendly enough. She lead the boy to his room first, which was the first door on the left and then lead me to mine, which was the first door on the right. As Mr Snape had said, there was indeed a heavy looking booklet place on my bed and all my belongings were to the side of the room. Mrs Robinson let us know that dinner would be at 5 and we were free to relax the rest of the day and tomorrow we would start with our new lessons and and questions we had. I sat back on my bed and thought about everything that had happened today. It was a whirlwind and I couldn’t focus properly on what it had all meant. I thought about Elsa and the others, would I be able to see them again or was this it now? My mind was focusing on too much and soon enough a dull pain formed at the back of my head. Taking my shoes off, I climbed into bed and closed my eyes, everything else could wait but for now, now I would sleep.


End file.
